


Unravel

by Gavin_F



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Campaign 1 (Critical Role), Post-Canon, Time Travel, Wishes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-04-04 06:50:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14014587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gavin_F/pseuds/Gavin_F
Summary: In which heartache is palpable, things which have been lost become found again, and wishes have unexpected ramifications.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Tagged for Graphic Depections of Violence more for safety reasons than for any real attempt to be disgusting. It may get worse as things progress. 
> 
> Okay, guys. This is the first longfic that I've actually attempted to get out of my brain and put onto paper in years, so bear with me. It's inspired by and expanded on the core idea produced by the lovely princessamericachavez on Tumblr Dot Com.
> 
> I can't promise regular updates or a solid schedule. I can't even /really/ promise to complete it. But so far, I've got this done, and outlines for a few chapters after this, and a lot of encouragement. So we'll see how it goes. Hopefully well.
> 
> Enjoy.

A year can be many things. It can be jubilation and sorrow in equal measures. It can be a minor eternity or it can slip past like sand through an hourglass, half of it missing before you even realize it's gone. To most of what remained of Vox Machina, the year immediately following Vax'ildan's final departure had felt like a titan. Insurmountable, impossibly slow, and wielding devastating inevitability like a deadly weapon.

Over that year, Vex'ahlia had stretched herself to what she had prior assumed would be the very edges of her capacity to mourn, and found beyond them a seemingly endless additional expanse of pain in myriad forms. So many things, she found, could set off the ache in her chest, not least of which was catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. For the first three months, she vehemently refused to look at one, and Percy had to resort to covering the vanity in their bedroom with a spare sheet in a desperate attempt to persuade her to try and sleep.

She knew he was only trying to help, so she didn't tell him that the sheet only turned the whole thing into a haphazard reminder that she was being followed by ghosts, and maybe that was just her fate – to be haunted by the memories of things she wasn't allowed to keep. Greedy Vex'ahlia, always grabbing for the thing that wasn't hers to have.

She had watched her found family, who had stood by each other through thick and thin and more trials than she could reliably count, drift apart as time passed. She and Percival had stayed close, of course. But Pike, Scanlan, and Grog had moved back to Westruun. The last she had heard from them, Wilhand had died and left Pike the house. And Keyleth had returned to Zephra to guide and protect her people. Thinking of Keyleth never failed to strike Vex with a pang of guilt. She had promised her brother that she would keep his love company while the both of them grieved his loss. And she had tried. Pelor confirm her, she had tried. But Keyleth had never been a good liar, and Vex could see the bitterness lurking at the edges of her when she tried to make small talk about Percy or Whitestone or the marriage. She could feel the pain of a wound that she herself had caused and which had never truly healed, and without Vax there as a buffer, their meetings were cripplingly stiff and awkward, no matter how charming Vex tried to be. It broke her heart, and after four months of walking on eggshells, she could take no more. Now they only saw each other in person on the rare occasion that everyone was called together for something.

Vex took minor solace in the fact that they still exchanged written missives from time to time. In them, Keyleth assured her, more eloquently than she ever could out loud, that all she needed was time. It was in those moments that Vex felt the sting of bitter irony. Of all the members of her family that were left, Keyleth was likely the only one who truly understood the size of the hole that Vax had left in her heart, and not once had they been able to stand each other's solitary company long enough to have an earnest conversation about it.

In the absence of anyone else who could truly empathize with just how much she had lost, Vex had turned to the shrine of the Raven Queen that Percy had had built all that time ago. Though her faith in the Dawnfather had only flourished since she had met him, she was also the only person in Whitestone who had any sort of accurate knowledge of the customs of the Raven Queen, or any vested interest in keeping her shrine in good repair. For the first few months, she had made a point of going there every day and attempting to reach past the veil and contact her brother. At first she had raged. Even with her newfound connection to the gods, she wasn't adept at quiet contemplation. She had been fidgety and unsettled. A few times, she couldn't bring herself to stop pacing. And all the while she had flung insults and berated the small pool of blood and the cold stone walls. She had cajoled and wheedled and tried to strike up another bargain or a hundred or a thousand – she lost count after thirty five potential counter-deals, all met with deafening silence. At one point, she found herself sinking down in front of the pool and weeping. That time, she hadn't left the shrine until the sun went down.

As time passed, her visits became less frequent, and less fervent. She mainly only went to keep the place maintained anymore, and passed the time with idle chatter. She could no longer bring herself to care whether she got confirmation that he could hear her.

Despite all of this, though – despite the slow decline in raw, comprehensible suffering, despite a year's worth of time to move through the stages of grief in a tiny shrine that didn't acknowledge or comfort her, and then backwards and forwards through them a hundred more times – she still wandered the Parchwood more than was perhaps strictly necessary, even for the mistress of the Grey Hunt. She knew it worried Percy, even if he didn't say it out loud anymore. She did what she could to soothe him, if only to get him off her back.

“I have to know these woods, darling,” she claimed, the half-truth rolling off her tongue as easily as a marble, “It's not like I can just carry bag of maps with me the next time Pelor tells me there's some evil shadow-fuck hiding out there, and I'm not like Keyleth. I can't ask the trees for directions.”

Platitudes like these always produced a frown from Percy. He knew his wife well enough to tell when she wasn't being fully honest with him. But then she'd kiss him, and put her hands on the side of his face and rub her thumbs in between his eyebrows and say something like “Don't be so dour, darling. I beat that Grey...Destroyer...thing, didn't I?”

And Percy would smile, if reluctantly. “It's Grey Render, first of all,” he'd say, “And you know this is an entirely unfair way to change the subject-”

“And you resent that it works,” she'd reply, “I know, dear. That's why I do it.”

And she'd give him a pat on the cheek and a wink, silent promises to make it up to him later, and then she'd leave.

While excuses like these seemed to suffice, this particular day, there was purpose to her stride as she entered the Parchwood, Trinket by her side. Pelor had sent her another vision. She had seen a glade – one she was familiar with after all her wandering – and in it, a lithe, becoming figure. It looked almost like a human man, but not quite enough to convince her that it was one. Whatever this thing was, it was clearly more cunning than the Grey Render had been, and she knew instantly that she would have to be cautious. She watched as it wandered the glade, collecting plant life into a basket. She recognized some of the herbs. None of them were commonly used for friendly purposes.

Its back stiffened suddenly and it turned to look in her direction. For one heart stopping moment, its gaze pierced her, and she realized fully that this thing was not just cunning, it was trouble on two legs. It was little wonder, then, that Pelor had thought to show it to her. This was exactly the kind of thing that she was meant to keep Whitestone safe from.

Without hesitation, she crossed the barrier into the woods, not bothering to stick to any sort of path. If it could see her coming, it would make no difference, but if it couldn't, taking the hunter's trails would only serve to benefit her. Trinket loped easily beside her as the forest enveloped them in its familiar embrace, and only her intent focus on the Hunt kept her from being reminded of all the times she and Vax had wandered the Mirescar in their youth.

It didn't take her long to find the glade. It was one she visited often, though she'd never taken much notice of the sinister herbs that grew there. She'd have to speak with some people about potentially having this place warded so they couldn't be used by just any dickhead with a grudge against his next door neighbor. Trinket sniffed the air and trundled off through the grass to the other side of the glade while Vex traced her vision to the spot where she had seen the creature standing and knelt to look for tracks. This part was trickier.

Whatever the thing had been, she didn't anticipate it being the type of creature to step heavily, and she wasn't disappointed. Barely any impression had been left in the earth, even where it had stood the longest, but upon closer inspection, she noticed the severed stems of the herbs it had been collecting. She set her gaze grimly out into the forest and beckoned trinket.

“Come over here, dear,” she called, “Smell this for me.”

Trinket, never one to question his mother, stopped what he was doing in the bushes on the other side of the glade and came to stick his nose in the most aromatic patch of herbs Vex could find. He lowed and sneezed, giving Vex the same look he'd given her when she'd walked in to find him covered in pink bows.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, she couldn't help but to laugh.

“I'm sorry, darling. Does it smell bad?”

He grumbled and tossed his head, as though that would clear the smell from his nose.

“I need you to follow that smell, Trinket,” she said, pulling his attention back to her, “Seek.”

Trinket, though reluctant, stuck his nose in the patch of herbs a second time and then sniffed the air, before setting a wandering course out of the glade. It was slow going, as every few feet Trinket would stop and sniff the air again, or the ground. A few times he reared back on two legs, and once he doubled back on himself entirely, confused, but eventually the pair stumbled across something that broke the monotony of trees and underbrush.

A low stone structure sat in a patch of dappled light that filtered down from the canopy above. It was dilapidated, the stonework covered in ivy and moss, and it looked centuries-abandoned, but Vex could feel a heady aura of magic wafting off it even so. It reminded her somewhat of the shrine to the Raven Queen, but squatter, as though it had been built for a gnome. A smooth, almost friendly voice wafted from the inside.

“I wouldn't let your beast come any closer. He may step on something that bites him.”

There was a sharpness to the tone that Vex found immediately distasteful, but she put a hand on Trinket's haunch to stop him regardless. With her other hand she reached behind her and drew her bow out of its harness at her back, tense but not quite on the offensive just yet.

“Are you going to show your face, or are you going to make me come in there after you?” she called. Her voice rang clear across the distance and was met with an infuriating chuckle.

“Oh, but you've already seen it, haven't you? Or else you wouldn't be here, oh wise Mistress.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“How do you know I've already seen you?” she asked, trying not to betray that the thought of this thing actually having looked at her when she saw it in her vision unsettled her more than a little.

“Because I know who you are.” The voice had taken on a note of exasperated impatience, like that of a tutor instructing a particularly dense pupil. It reminded her of her studies in Syngorn. If she hadn't disliked this thing before, she certainly did now. It continued. “You think the forest doesn't spread rumors just as quickly as your cityfolk do? I've known there was a new Grey Huntress since you felled the Grey Render and orphaned its offspring. I must say, it was delightfully cruel of you to do it. It's a shame the Dawnfather pointed his holy missile at me. We might just have gotten along.”

At this point, Vex began to run out of patience. “What's to stop me from just walking in there and dragging you out by your throat so he can watch me kill you?”

“Bear traps,” the voice responded, now sounding almost bored. “They're a bit crude, I know, but terribly effective against most things that would make the mistake of trying to disturb me.”

That made Vex scoff. “If you've heard so much about me, then you should know I'll have no trouble getting around bear traps to-”

“Even if they're buried?”

That stopped her and she frowned. Before she could stop herself, she was asking another question. “Buried...? What do you mean buried? How would they go off if they're-”

“Moss.” She caught a glimpse of motion at the mouth of the little structure and the thing she'd seen in her vision emerged into the light. It seemed to unfold itself uncannily as it passed through the low doorway and she watched as it straightened and regarded her with a look of smug self-satisfaction. “It's delightfully compactible. You can lay down a layer thick enough to hide a bear trap and they'll still release when stepped on. Rather genius don't you think?”

Vex removed her hand from Trinket's haunch and pulled an arrow from her quiver, leveling it at the creature. “I didn't come here to stroke your ego, I came here to put an arrow in your...weird...” she looked it up and down, “spidery...fucking face.”

It tilted its head at her and crossed its arms, leaning back against the structure it had seemingly occupied. “Oh, Mistress. Why do that when we could strike up a deal instead? I've heard you love a good bargain.”

She squinted at it and drew back her bowstring just a little further. “Give me one good reason not to loose this arrow right now,” she said, “You've got maybe thirty seconds before my arm gives. I'm not very strong.”

The creature sucked in a breath between his teeth. “If you let me go, I'll tell you who this shrine is to.”

“Clearly no one has given a shit about this shrine in a very long time. Why should I?”

“Because I have this coin,” it said, producing, seemingly from nowhere, a shimmering golden coin, which it held between two spindly fingers, “I hear it used to belong to one of his followers. The god of this shrine that is.”

“Still not seeing why I care. And your time is running thin.”

“I hear he grants wishes.”

That caused Vex to pause. If only for a moment. The bowstring slackened.

“Why should I believe you?”

“What reason would I have to lie?” it asked, rolling the coin across its knuckles. “My 'weird spidery fucking face' is on the line, here.”

Vex lowered the arrow all the way but didn't return it to her quiver. The idea of striking up a bargain with this thing made her distinctly uneasy. The whole situation reeked of Faewild, and if she'd taken one thing other than crippling grief away from Vax's death, it was that running headlong into deals you don't fully understand was never a good idea, even if it could potentially save your friends.

“What are you?” she asked, pointedly.

“My kind are known as the Shadar-kai,” it replied, easily.

“What were you going to do with those herbs?”

“Why should that matter? Regardless of how this goes, I won't be doing it to the people of Whitestone. Your duty as Grey Huntress is fulfilled.”

“It matters because I want to know if I need to kill you, you fuck. Were you going to poison people with those?”

The thing shook its head. “Not directly. I was going to poison my traps with them. Make people regret trying to disturb me. But that's beside the point, isn't it? The real question here is whether you're walking out of the woods today with a wish. So. Do we have an accord? You let me go peacefully on my way and I let you have my coin?”

Vex'ahlia bit down on the tip of her tongue. She absolutely hated that this thing, without even knowing her name, let alone having any significant wellspring of information about her beyond her title and the duties attached to it, had managed to figure out how to hit her where it hurt. But what was even more infuriating than that was the fact that it was working.

She knew better than to expect a wish to bring him back. Scanlan had explained it to her tens of times before he left for Westruun. Their best bet would have been for him to cast it at the moment of Vax's departure when the deal was yet incomplete. Now, after a year of stagnation, the possibility of anything short of turning the universe upside-down and shaking it out like a disorganized portable hole actually bringing her brother back to her was slim to none. And yet...here it was being dangled in front of her. If nothing else, it was the opportunity to try. The opportunity to do more than just sit in the Raven Queen's shrine and weep and feel uncomfortably useless.

“I can practically see the gears in your head turning, but I do actually need you to answer me out loud.”

“I could still shoot you, you know. I'd mind your manners if I were you.”

The thing put its hands up in a minor platitude and fell silent, seemingly content to wait for her decision.

She closed her eyes. She could hear her family in the back of her mind. All the awkward attempts at being sensitive while still telling her that she needed to let go. And oh, how she wished she could. But even after years of learning how not to be so tight-fisted with material possessions, she had never fathomed that she'd have to let go of him.

“You leave here and never come back to Whitestone or the Parchwood again,” she said, finally. “Or I kill you where you stand.”

The creature pondered this for a moment. “I walk away with my life, provided I steer clear of your domain? Seems fair. And well worth the wish.”

The creature flicked the coin into the air. It glinted distractingly in the sun, but Vex merely put her hand out and didn't break eye contact. Miraculously, the coin fell into her palm. She'd expected to have to eat crow on that one. Fortunately, every once in a while her gambles paid off.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Mistress. Enjoy your wish. And mind the moss.”

The creature turned to leave, but Vex called out after it.

“Wait! You said you'd tell me who the shrine was for.”

The creature paused and turned back to look at her over its shoulder, a chilling tableau of the gaze from her vision. “And you said you didn't care. You have what you wanted. Good day.”

And before she could protest, it seemed to bleed into the shadows of the trees beyond the shrine like ink on damp paper. And then it was gone.

She cursed and made a rude gesture in the direction it had gone before setting her eyes back on the shrine.

“Mind the moss my ass,” she grumbled to herself, surveying the small patch of even ground between the tree line and the entrance to the shrine. “You mind the moss you bony-fingered shithead.”

Without thinking, she reached out the tendrils of her consciousness to pull Trinket into the necklace that still sat with a comforting weight over her collarbone and stepped out into the little clearing.

Paying attention, it wasn't difficult to find the patches of green that were incongruous with the rest of the ground, though, burn her as it might to admit it, she had to acknowledge that they were far too densely packed for Trinket to have been able to pass through safely on his own.

The inside of the shrine was no better looking than the outside had been. Between the clear signs of the Shadar-kai's inhabitance and the general state of disrepair, Vex got the feeling that whatever god had occupied this shrine when it had first been built had long abandoned it. And yet, despite the cracks in the roof letting the light in and the obvious signs of wear and neglect, the fountain at the back of the shrine still flowed with clear water, as though fed by some unseen reservoir.

Though it was a bit awkward to maneuver in the cramped space, she knelt down by the fountain the way she knelt before the pool in the Raven Queen's shrine and held out the coin in front of her to examine it. It was bigger than the currency she was used to, and beautifully etched, though she didn't understand the language of the scrawl around its edges.

She took a steadying breath, closed her eyes, and tried to clear her mind as Keeper Yenin had taught her. She realized very quickly that she was far out of her depth. She had no idea to whom she was entreating for her brother's life, and beyond that, she'd never beseeched any god for a wish before.

“Well. First time for everything, I suppose,” she muttered to herself, looking back down at the coin. “Listen. I still don't know how all this weird...God shit works. But that Shadow Kai fuck said you grant wishes if I like...talk to this coin. Or whatever. So.” She grit her teeth and let an irritated breath escape her. This was silly. Stupid, even. “I want my brother back. That's what I want. But you can't do that, probably, can you?”

A moment passed in silence, and then another. The ambient sounds of the forest filtered in behind her. The quiet trickling of the fountain provided a gentle soundtrack to accompany her bitter disappointment. She wasn't sure what she had expected. Even when the Raven Queen herself had sent Vax back it had taken a full day. Even so, she figured when something like a wish actually got its hooks in you, something was supposed to happen, even if it was only a gut feeling.

“Yeah. Thought not. Dick,” she muttered.

As she rose from her kneeling posture and made to leave, she tossed the coin over her shoulder and heard the splash as it hit the water of the fountain.

She left the shrine, dodging deftly around the moss and returning to the edge of the trees before she let Trinket out of the pendant. He nudged up beside her, lowing. She looked up at the canopy overhead.

“Do you remember when it was just the three of us?” she whispered. The trees didn't answer. She shook her head, almost laughed at herself but didn't quite manage. “I wish we'd never left the forest. C'mon, Trinket. Let's go home.”

 

The whole encounter sat uneasily with her through the rest of the day. She began to wonder if she'd made the right decision. After all, the purpose of the Grey Hunt was to find and slay major threats to Whitestone within the Parchwood. It was almost as though she could feel Pelor's disapproval bearing down on her like the heat of a second sun. Then again, maybe she was just deluding herself. If he'd had a problem with her greediness, he'd have voiced it when she offered to be his champion. He had to have known about it. He was a god.

Even as she laid in bed with Percy that night, her thoughts continued to spin in circles. The casual flippancy with which the creature had treated her still irked her, and the deafening silence that had stretched out into nothing after she made her last ditch attempt at a dud wish rankled her even more. She'd never been fond of getting the bum end of a deal. She felt Percy's fingers tracing a gentle path up her arm.

“Why so dour, my star?”

Vex couldn't deny that she still got butterflies when he called her that. It was a new nickname. She remembered him vaguely mentioning something about adding a sixth star to the De Rolo crest after she'd been chosen as a champion of Pelor, but she'd never thought it would actually come to anything.

“Using that nickname to wrangle confessions out of me is hardly fair, Percival.”

“And you resent that it works.”

She could practically taste the irony of having her words thrown back at her.

“Your smug is tangible,” she teased, rolling over to face her husband.

His expression was soft, but there was worry around the edges. That had been the default for the better part of a year now. It didn't really faze her anymore. Even so, she relented.

“There was a hunt today,” she said. Percy raised his eyebrows.

“Oh? It wasn't the Grey Render again...?”

“No,” Vex's face twisted in contemplation, “No, I don't think they grow up that fast. No, it was this weird...almost like a person. Called himself a...Shadow Kai? Shade Kai?”

Percy frowned. “A Shadar-kai?”

“Yes! That's the one,” she said, “It was really creepy. Living in this abandoned shrine out in the woods and gathering herbs for poison bear traps.”

“That's...odd. I didn't think we got those on this plane,” Percy muttered, almost to himself. “In any case. Trinket came back with you so I can't imagine the bear traps actually posed a problem to you. Which leaves my question still unanswered.”

It was Vex's turn to pause.

“Well...that's the thing. I...I let him go. And now I'm wondering if that was the right thing to do or if I should have killed him when I had the chance. To keep him from going and being a creepy evil shit somewhere else. I mean, isn't that the point of the Grey Hunt? Pelor tells me something's dangerous and I go and kill it?”

Percy's expression took on a thoughtful tinge and he propped himself up on one elbow. “Well...not exactly. The Grey Hunt is...well it's never been a discreetly defined thing other than that it's about mitigating threats. It's. It doesn't strictly need to be a matter of killing, and I think in most cases killing is probably not the only way to make sure something stays away from the city, especially if it's intelligent enough to try and strike a deal for its life. The Shadar-kai are...from what I understand, are fair folk. They're fae. They're twisted, capricious fae, but they're still... I suppose what I mean to say is that not killing it doesn't necessarily mean you failed to complete the Hunt. You drove it off. That's what matters.”

Vex was silent for some time. “I just can't help being nervous that I've just doomed some other poor village to having to deal with this thing. He was making poisons, Percy.”

“All the villages around here know that nasty things come out of the Parchwood. They're prepared for it in their own ways just like we are. Your duty as Mistress of the Grey Hunt is to Whitestone, so you're excused on a professional level, and on a moral level you can be soothed by the knowledge that a fae, especially one that likes to make deals, is going to have a very hard time breaking through the general indifference that seems to be a major cultural facet of this region. Easiest target around here would have probably been me and my penchant for horrible decision making.”

Despite herself, Vex found some comfort in Percy's reassurance. She shut her eyes, curling forward to press her forehead against his chest.

“I'm sorry, darling. It's all just...new. And I really don't want to disappoint a god.”

“I don't think you have,” Percy said, “If I could manage to avoid anything more severe than a mild ribbing from the goddess of knowledge, you'll be doing just fine, I should think.”

A quiet sigh escaped Vex's lips and she put an arm loosely across Percy's middle, settling into a more comfortable position and trying to relax enough that sleep could take her. The niggling feeling in the back of her mind hadn't left her entirely alone, but between Percy's reassurances and the general comfort of just being near him, she found it much diminished.

Sooner or later, she succumbed to sleep, content with the thought that if Pelor were truly upset with her, he'd probably have let her know somehow by now. She'd do more digging into the Shadar-kai tomorrow if it still felt important. For now, it was time to rest.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's taken this long to update, but it's finally here! Chapter two! I'm still working guys I promise.

Vex'ahlia had always had good instincts. Her mother had called it the Blessing of the Mirescar. Even during infancy she'd been sensitive. The older she grew, the more it frustrated her that she couldn't ever quite find the words to describe the feeling. It always prickled right at the back of her neck, telling her ever so vaguely that something was Off. It hadn't been until she found Trinket that she felt there was anyone who could truly relate.

This was the feeling that woke her. She didn't open her eyes immediately. If the feeling was brought on by an intruder, it would be better to take them by surprise, and besides, Manners was on Percival's side of the bed. She began to reach out with her other senses, attempting to gather information and assess.

The first thing that struck her was that there was fur underneath her. It smelled of Trinket, which seemed to check out, but she couldn't remember the last time he'd slept with her indoors. There wasn't room in the bed for all three of them. Matter of fact, there was barely room in most beds for just him. Her brow furrowed and she probed further.

The second thing that struck her was the surface underneath her. Anywhere that Trinket wasn't supporting her felt cool and hard. As a matter of fact, it didn't feel like a bed at all, and as she slowly became more aware of what was happening, the feeling of Off began to grow into the kind of feverish dread that one can only feel when one has come far too close to losing their loved ones a few too many times.

She tried to calm herself. Whatever this was, surely she could handle it, she reasoned. This would not be the first time that some sly enemy had taken members of Vox Machina by surprise in the night – though it worried her that somehow they'd managed to get her out of her bed without her noticing. She wanted desperately to reach for Percy – assuming he was even in arm's reach – to see if he was safe, but she stayed still. Perhaps there was more yet that she could learn.

She shifted slightly, doing her best to keep it subtle, and gathered that she didn't appear to be restrained at all. Odd. If someone knew enough about her to want her kidnapped, they should know enough about her to see that she was bound. She felt layers of fabric shifting over her skin. Odder. She hadn't been in the habit of sleeping clothed since...well, since before she'd met Vox Machina. Back when the world was cruel and frightening and she had thought that any extra layers were worth the discomfort if they came between her and a blade. The feeling of Off persisted.

She heard footsteps approaching her and her heart began to race. She'd have to decide on a course of action soon, and she had no idea what her resources were. A part of her hoped fervently that this was a very vivid dream but no matter how hard she willed it, the feeling of Off did not vanish. She felt someone crouch down beside her and a gentle hand brushed her hair away from her face. She did her best not to flinch.

“Oi, Stubby.”

Vex'ahlia's heart plummeted into her stomach. This wasn't just Off. This was awful and wrong and more than wrong, this was _impossible_. Vax was dead. She had watched him greet death like an old fucking friend. He had spewed some soppy bullshit about seeing their mother again and then walked off into oblivion and he'd had the nerve – the absolute _fucking nerve_ – to leave _flowers_ behind him. As if that made it any fucking easier to watch her other half leaving her _forever_ and to know that even when she died she wouldn't get to see him again but for a moment because she'd _probably_ end up with Pelor-

“Hey.” The hand that had moved her hair reached out for her shoulder now and shook her, gently. “Up-up. S'time to go. C'mon.”

She started to panic. If this was a dream, it wasn't ending. But there was no way that it could be anything else. This couldn't be real, unless-

Grim realization cut through the dread like a coin being tossed into a fountain. This couldn't be real, she thought, unless her wish had come true. And she knew enough about wishes to know that all wishes came at a price. Usually it was proportional to the boon granted by the wish. She could only imagine that the cost of something like this would be catastrophic. She had to know more.

Feigning normalcy, she scrunched up her face and tried to slur her words.

“Hmmmm? Where?” she mumbled, stalling for time so she could wrack her brains for any helpful hints as to where they might be – or useful instincts as to how she should behave.

“Kymal,” Vax – or the thing with Vax's voice – replied. “You're bag's packed. Didn't figure you'd want to.”

Vex tried to keep the confused frown off her face. Why would they be going to Kymal? Why was she not in a bed? Where were they? Why the _hell_ was her brother here?

“You don't have a fucking clue what I'm talking about, do you?”

Hoping that he might elaborate, she shook her head. She heard him sigh.

“You really are useless in the morning,” he said, and she heard him rising to his feet. “Just get your things. It'll come back to you.”

What she found coming back to her instead of whatever it was that she was _supposed_ to know was the intimately irksome feeling that only siblings ever truly become familiar with. It was the feeling of wanting to kick her brother in the balls for being infuriatingly obtuse at the worst possible time.

It made her want to cry.

 

The house – if you could call it a house – was exactly as she remembered it. It was small and sparsely furnished. One room with a table and two mismatched chairs, a single cot in the corner – that explained why she'd been sleeping on the floor – a few cooking utensils hanging on the wall over the hearth. It was exactly as it had been before she and Vax had left Byroden, and that was exactly the problem. It _shouldn't_ be this way.

The last time she'd seen Byroden, it had been reduced to rubble by a dragon attack, and now here she was in her childhood home with her brother _still alive_ and she had no idea how it got that way. She still didn't know the price she'd paid for this wish to come true and the thought of it shook her to the core.

Before she had too much time to dwell on it -- or, to think of it another way, before she had nearly enough time to _process_ any of it or come up with a better plan for how to deal with it than trying to lie to her brother who knew her like he knew how to breathe -- she'd been stuffed into a traveling pack that was almost too heavy for her to handle on her own and bustled toward the door with Trinket at her back.

"The sooner we leave, the sooner we get there," Vax was saying. He sounded anxious in a way that Vex was used to in a general sense, but would never have thought to associate to a situation like this. A frown knit her brow.

"What's got you in such a rush," she asked. "Not planning on saying goodbye to anyone?"

Vax froze with one hand on the doorknob in a way that told Vex that she'd struck a nerve she hadn't meant to strike.

"We talked about this, Stubby," he said, tensely.

Vex's mind was still speeding a mile a minute trying to catch up to what was happening without letting on that she truly hadn't the first clue what her brother could be alluding to. She was sure from his body language that he had had a very long and potentially fraught conversation with his sister about leaving Byroden for Kymal without telling anyone. She was also sure that she was _not_ the sister that was present for that talk, which meant she had no idea why, nor what she'd be in for as soon as they walked out that door.

She wanted so badly already to lay the whole truth bare before him and ask him what the fuck was going on so she could get her head around it, but she knew without having to waste much consideration on it that that wouldn't exactly be ideal. She'd have to be crafty if she wanted to piece together just what exactly she'd wished into reality, and the first step was to see what the world outside this house that shouldn't exist looked like. So she swallowed her questions and did her best to approximate shame.

"Right," she said, "That was shitty. Let's go."

For a moment, Vax's expression twisted, and Vex's heart leaped into her throat. In the space between two heartbeats, a thousand behavioral nuances ran through her mind at once. Should she have been more defiant with him? Would that be enough for him to catch on that something was wrong? Or would he pass it off as her still waking up and let it go?

Vax reached out and tousled Vex's hair, interrupting her thoughts. The moment passed. He turned back to the door and shouldered it open, fighting against the swelling of the aging wood and the loose hinges that let it hang crooked in its frame.

The sun had not yet fully risen, meaning there was no blinding flash of brightness to transition them from indoor to outdoor. The early-morning air carried a chill, but Vex found she didn't mind. This, at least, was something she was familiar with. She tried to let that familiarity lend confidence to her stride, even as she took in the sight of a village that Should Not Be.

Everything was as she remembered it before the rubble. At least...it was almost as she remembered it.

The people of Byroden had never had wealth to speak of, but things had always been...neat. Maintained. Cared for. This Byroden was different. The Vessar home was not the only one that seemed to be bowing under the weight of neglect.

Flowerboxes in many a window sat withered with lack of care. Gardens that she remembered being food-bearing were shrunken and poorly cared for, and gardens that had been decorative were utterly overgrown. Ivy marred some of the sturdier brick homes, and many of the wooden ones were leaning precariously.

Byroden had never been destroyed by dragon fire. That much was clear. But it did look abandoned. And somehow, that was almost worse.

Despite her best efforts, Vax must have noticed the heartbreak in Vex's expression. She felt a sudden hand fall on her shoulder and looked to see him wearing one much the same.

"This is why I didn't want to linger," he muttered, as though he was trying not to wake someone in the room next door, "I hate how sad it makes you."

Vex knew she'd have to choose her next words wisely. This was something that she was supposed to know more about, and if she wasn't careful, that would be obvious.

"Sometimes I still wonder..." she said, cautiously, wondering if Vax would try to finish for her. Instead, he merely waited, hand still resting on her shoulder. It felt heavier than she remembered. Like a reminder. She started again. "Sometimes I still wonder how something like this happens. One day everything's normal, and the next..."

This time, Vax did step in to fill in some details.

"Some big dickhead dragon bites the head off the Emporer in Emon, declares himself sovereign, and poof. Mass exodus."

Vex's heart sank as the full scope of what she'd done began to unfold before her. Realistically, there was only one dragon that was likely to have done such a thing at all, let alone so brazenly. If what her brother said was true, and it meant what she thought it meant, Thordak was sitting on the throne of Emon, earning his title as the Cinder King, and it had all happened _years_ before it was supposed to. Either that, or something had happened years ago that had kept the two of them from leaving home, or kept Thordak from destroying Byroden on his first pass over it while they were away.

She knew she couldn't very well ask Vax what year it was in order to find out. That would have to wait. But one thing was certain regardless of surrounding circumstances. Whatever it was that had changed, Vox Machina had never formed, which meant there would be no one to fend off the Chroma Conclave as they advanced across Tal'Dorei. And worse, there would be no one to avert other disasters from happening either. No one to save Kima from the Underdark or stop K'Varn before his dealings with Orcus could come to fruition.

A chill ran down her spine.

No one to liberate Whitestone.

She scrambled to cover the way that made her stomach lurch.

"Where did they all go, d'you think," she asked, going for somewhere between sorrow and genuine curiosity.

"Dunno," Vax replied, somberly, "Wildemount, probably. Issylrah, maybe. Can't imagine a lot of them could get too far without being picked off by bandits or that dragon-fuck's cronies."

His voice had taken on a tone of bitterness that said perhaps he knew more firsthand than he was letting on. His hand squeezed her shoulder briefly before sliding away as he started to walk.

"We've hung around long enough," he said, "Let's go."

Not wanting to risk a fight with her brother so soon after recovering him -- _at what cost, though? Such a horrible, steep cost --_ Vex merely signaled for Trinket to fall in with her and followed close at Vax's heels as they made their way unnoticed out of Byroden and struck out north towards Kymal, and whatever their future there might hold for them.

 

It wasn't until midday, with the sun high in the sky and her pack fastened as securely to Trinket as she could manage after it had started to make her shoulders ache -- she'd forgotten what a weakling she'd used to be, which was saying something, as even after all her years with Vox Machina she'd never been particularly strong -- that a realization dawned on Vex. She cleared her throat to get Vax's attention.

He didn't break stride, but she saw his head turn slightly to let her know he was listening.

"Brother dearest," she said, in the most honey-sweet tone she could manage."

"I already don't like the sound of this," he cut in, but she could hear a hint of a tired smile in his voice, so she pressed on.

"We aren't _walking_ all the way to Kymal, are we? That's like..." she squeezed one eye shut, dusting off the memories of physical distance that had been gathering cobwebs in her head ever since they'd gained access to teleportation magic, "four hundred miles."

For the first time that day, Vax laughed. Vex had to bite down hard on the tip of her tongue to keep from breaking down in tears. She hadn't thought she'd ever hear that laugh again, and she hadn't expected it to break her heart so exquisitely.

"We are _definitely_ _not_ walking all the way to fucking Kymal," Vax said once he'd gathered his wits. Some of the humor faded out of his expression then, replaced by the patented mix of melancholy and bitter that could only mean one thing. "We're...going to stop in Syngorn and see if we can't hitch a ride. Or a teleport or something."

"If it's even still there," Vex muttered without thinking, burying her fingers in Trinket's fur and trying not to think of Percy.

In fact, she was trying so hard not to think of Percy that she nearly rammed straight into Vax's back where he'd frozen in the middle of the road. She pulled up short, staring pointedly at the spot right between his shoulder blades that sometimes gave him shivers if she concentrated hard enough.

" _Fuck_ ," he spat, suddenly, almost making her jump.

"What," she asked, genuinely confused as to what would have drawn such a reaction from him.

"...I hadn't thought of that," he admitted, "Bastards probably skipped plane to shore up in the Faewild as soon as they smelled brimstone on the wind. Be surprised if they even know what happened to the Emporer."

"So..." Vex prompted, "What does that mean for us?"

Vax sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose the way he always did when his plans started unraveling and he had time to actually think about the changes he needed to make instead of screaming 'jenga' and jumping out a second-story window.

"There are...towns," he said, a bit lack-luster, "near where Syngorn is... _supposed_ to be. Maybe we pick up a couple of horses and see if that saves us any time?"

"I mean...we can try, but that's still a long way. Even on horses," Vex cautioned, folding her arms across her chest.

"Got any better ideas?" Vax looked up to scrutinize her, "Because the only place I know of that's between here and anywhere we're trying to get to that'd have a quicker way to cover a few hundred miles than horses is Syngorn, and it's not as though we can exactly _pop over to the fucking faewild for a visit,_ now can we?"

Vex's brows knit together in an irritated frown. "Well, don't get fresh with me just because you didn't consider that father would have hit the panic button as soon as he caught wind of a giant fuck-off dragon in his back yard."

Vax glanced up to the sky as though he expected it to open and rain divine inspiration on him. It did nothing of the sort.

The road ahead of them, on the other hand, was slightly more obliging. Not more than forty feet ahead of them, a crossroads etched its way through the fields that stretched from Byroden off into obscurity in either direction. Coming from somewhere off to their left, the distant sound of wagon-wheels and harnesses carried to where they stood. Vex squinted, trying to make out where the wagon was -- or who might be guiding it.

She took a few steps in the direction of the crossing before another sound found its way to her and froze her on the spot. It was the sound of singing. More specifically, the sound of one particular singing voice that she didn't thing she'd ever been happier to hear.

' _Country roads_

_Take me home_

_To the place_

_I belooooooong_

_Take me to Kymal...'_

Before the verse was done, she'd broken into a run in an attempt to cover what was left of the road between her and the crossing before she'd missed the cart and its driver entirely. Vax reacted in a heartbeat, racing after her and Trinket, though she was certain he had no idea why she'd started to run. She'd figure out an explanation later. For now, she just _had to see-_

"What'ya think, Kaylie," he was saying, "Think they'll like that one?"

"I think you were sharp," Kaylie replied, "and pandering."

By now, Vex was close enough that with her keen eyesight she could see the exaggerated offense on the driver's face as he turned to look at his daughter instead of the road ahead of them.

"I can put up with being accused of pandering," he said, "even by my own flesh and blood. But _sharp_? Me? Scanlan Shorthalt, Minstrel Extraordinaire, _sharp_? I simply can't accept it."

"You don't have to accept it," Kaylie said, matter-of-factly, "Doesn't change the fact that it's true."

Scanlan scoffed. "Unbelievable. I should just let you off the cart and make you _walk_ to Kymal."

Vex nearly called his name to get his attention, but caught herself just as the 's' slipped free. It resolved itself easily into a hurried "Sir!"

Scanlan and Kaylie both turned their heads and saw her, pace significantly reduced, jogging toward their cart trailed by her brother and a massive bear.

Kaylie seemed instantly uncomfortable. Scanlan, on the other hand, seemed a bit more than intrigued.

"Ho, there," he called, clearly attempting to sound more formal than was at all usual for him, "What can I do for you this fine day, my lady?"

Vax raised an eyebrow as the two of them came to a stop next to the cart, which had also halted its forward momentum. Vex let it slide. It mattered more to her that they travel with Scanlan than that Vax have a full understanding of what was going on. She'd already made a fine mess for herself what with the sudden running. What was a little more explaining to go along with it?

"Oh, forgive me," she said in the best damsel-in-distress voice she could manage on short notice, "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but your singing voice is just so...so _clear_ and it carries so well and I couldn't help but to hear that you're on your way to...Kymal?"

She saw Scanlan open his mouth to respond, but he failed to get anything out before Kaylie brought her heel down hard on what must have been his outer two toes.

"I'm... _flattered_ ," he gritted out, "young lady. But, uh..."

"What do you care where we're goin'," Kaylie interrupted, sharply.

Vex couldn't remember the last time she'd backpedaled so quickly.

"Well, you see, it's just that my brother and I are _also_ headed to Kymal, and it's...an awful distance from here, and-"

"So you're looking to hitch a ride," Kaylie said, sternly, glancing between the two of them and pointedly refusing to acknowledge the massive bear sitting dutifully at Vex's side. "What do we get out of this deal?"

Vex floundered. Were she in her own life she would throw money at the problem, but she didn't know how much she had at hand. She had a sneaking suspicion it was somewhere in the vicinity of 'not nearly enough'.

"Attractive companionship," she offered. She knew it was an off chance -- Kaylie wore the pants even when things were normal -- but she figured if she could sway Scanlan, he might at least be able to soften his daughter a little.

Scanlan opened his mouth again to speak but this time Kaylie put one of her dagger-like little elbows into his ribs. That shut him up quite efficiently.

"Gold," she said, "We'll take gold for it. More passengers means more mouths to feed, and one of them is...big." She eyed Trinket, apprehensively as she said this.

"Oh! Well, you're in luck then. I'm a huntress," Vex said, "So you won't need to worry much about food or shelter. I can arrange those things easily."

Kaylie's eyes swept up and down her in a wandering line and one of her eyebrows rose. "And what is it you hunt _with_ , exactly?"

At that moment, Vex realized why she'd felt off-balance all day. There was no bow strapped to her back. No quiver of arrows. She kicked herself as soon as it hit her. She should have noticed sooner. But here she was, claiming to be a huntress with no weapons to speak of and no way to prove it on short notice other than to rely on her silver tongue and pray. Assuming prayer would actually work for her now.

"Oh! Traps and snares mostly. My materials are in my pack -- I can get them out and show you if you like!" She tried desperately to ooze as much enthusiasm as was mortally possible for her, in the hope that it would put one or both of them off enough that they'd agree to some kind of deal.

Just her luck, Scanlan finally got a word in edgewise.

"That is... _highly_ unnecessary, miss..."

"Vex'ahlia."

"Miss Ahlia." Vex did her best not to grimace. It was important that she cozy up as much as she could if it meant getting into this wagon. "I'm in your corner on this one. Kaylie, these nice people just want a ride to Kymal. We can do that for them without any trouble, can't we?"

Kaylie sighed and sat back in the wagon bench. "Five gold a day."

Vex nearly choked on her own spit.

" _Kaylie_ ," Scanlan said, sounding aghast, "These are travelers. Five gold a day is a bit _steep,_ don't you think?"

"Three, then."

"Miss Ahlia said she could hunt for us! What's the point in charging them money? We get company and food out of the deal, they get transportation. That seems fair to me..."

Vex cleared her throat. "If it's too much to ask..." she said, with just a hint of melancholy, "I understand. We can find our own way. It was a pleasure meeting you both."

Scanlan very nearly fell out of the wagon in his haste to reach out to her.

"No no. It's not too much. Please," he said, "Hop in."

Kaylie shot him a withering look.

"Oh, thank you, sir," Vex said, reaching out to take his hand between both of hers. "You won't regret this. Um. Sorry, I don't think I caught your name."

"Scanlan Shorthalt," Scanlan replied in his best salesman voice, "Performer. Connoisseur of music, wine --"

"She doesn't need the speech," Kaylie said, cutting him off and jabbing a thumb toward the back of the wagon. "Get in."

Vex smiled graciously and gestured Vax in front of her toward the back of the wagon. Vax shot her a look of intense confusion but followed her gesture. With both of them settled, the wagon started up again and Scanlan fell into another verse of the song he'd been singing that had drawn Vex's ear in the first place.

For a moment, it almost felt normal. Then Vax spoke up.

"So...what the _fuck_ was all that?"

Vex did her best not to freeze up.

"I got us a ride, didn't I," she said, breezily, "It's fine. You can thank me later."

Vax only stared at her. She began to develop the sinking feeling that her cover, flimsy as it had been to begin with, wouldn't last much longer.

 


End file.
